


Intent on his Taste

by CheshireCaine



Category: Bleach
Genre: Blow Jobs, GinIchi WinterFest 2020, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:33:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheshireCaine/pseuds/CheshireCaine
Summary: “C-Come on, Gin.” Ichigo tensed his legs, desperately trying to still them.“Please?”
Relationships: Ichimaru Gin/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 94
Collections: GinIchi WinterFest 2020





	Intent on his Taste

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acjkpop](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acjkpop/gifts).



> title from Paradise Lost  
> beta-ed by absolute treasure FeelingFredly

Gin hollowed his cheeks around Ichigo’s shaft, indulging Ichigo with his mouth, warm and tight for him. He withdrew – lips wet – because he could never make this easy. He nipped kitten kisses at the tip of Ichigo’s prick, then slid further along, half-shuttered eyes finding Ichigo’s to hold. He sucked along his cock, slow and deliberate. Ichigo’s thighs shivered on either side of Gin and he scrambled to grip the bedsheets with shaking hands.

“C-Come on, Gin.” Ichigo tensed his legs, desperately trying to still them. _“Please?”_ He didn’t mean for it to come out so high pitched (and genuine) . . . He was almost definitely blushing.

Gin smiled, lips thin and stretched across his cheeks.

Ichigo was starting to panic, the ear-pounding pulse and the sweat along his brow and neck no longer so agreeable.

Gin slid his pretty mouth down Ichigo’s cock by way of an answer. Ichigo squirmed as Gin casually held him across his tongue, damp tip pressing inside his throat. Gin’s face was blank again as he gazed up to stare Ichigo in the eye. He hollowed his cheeks so tight that Ichigo gasped. He almost believed he’d pass out with more blood between Gin’s teeth than above his neck.

“Gin. I can’t- I can’t,” he begged, Gin’s hands already palming his arse. “I can’t-” His groping hands were too much. “Please, touch me more.” Fingers hungrily probing for more to press, to squeeze, to _feel_.

The pressure of Gin’s nails curled into Ichigo’s bum and made his hips jerk forwards even as his back bowed the opposite way. Gin feasted on his body, Ichigo’s hips bouncing off the bed and jostling his own torso. So Gin drew back enough to slow the pace and stopper up his lips with the head of Ichigo’s cock. (Was it really sex with Gin if he didn’t stop to look, tease and abuse Ichigo through several rounds of edging?) Gin sucked and vibrated and hummed, eyes on Ichigo’s face and arched throat, fingers stroking up his sweat-shining abs. Ichigo rolled his hips forward for Gin to take him completely. He fucked Gin’s mouth until his toes curled and his spine zapped taut, breath escaping in a choke as he spent himself.

Ichigo gasped, jaw uncontrollably locked as he came back to himself. His breath weighted by ecstasy and exhaustion and his skin gooseprickling under the chill of his sweat. Ichigo felt _consumed_. He raised himself back up, the sweat trailing further down his muscles and his whole body shaking.

Ichigo looked at Gin, who’d waited patiently for Ichigo’s recovery like he was a tuckered out puppy. (Like Gin hadn’t once gazed upon his post-orgasm nudity and called him a debauched Adonis.) He was dressed with that same beatific smile, eyes disarmingly open and fully exposing the aquamarine. Gin didn’t pause to speak before rising, one hand gripping Ichigo’s thigh as he sought out his favourite mouth to devour.

He wasn’t tired _one bit_.


End file.
